


Couplehood

by castie67, concupiscence66



Category: Spaced
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:24:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castie67/pseuds/castie67, https://archiveofourown.org/users/concupiscence66/pseuds/concupiscence66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim and Daisy are not 'together'. They are just friends, mates, best pals. Their relationship is comfortable, companionable, and uncomplicated.   But maybe being a couple is more than dating, romance and sex. Maybe it has more to do with being there for each other and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. Maybe their strange, goofy friendship isn't 'just' anything.<br/>In this series of vignettes, Tim and Daisy slowly grow to realize that there are a lot of different ways to be a couple. With the help of their wacky friends and housemates, their already rock-solid friendship evolves into something - - different. Yes, they love each other - - but could they actually be in love?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Couple of Bad Nights

It was midnight on a Friday night and Daisy was at her wits' end. Tim had been violently ill for the last several hours, vomiting at an alarmingly regular rate of every 45 minutes. They had tried every home remedy they knew, but ice chips, hard candy, fizzy pop, and tea had done nothing but spare Tim the additional agony of dry heaves when he regurgitated them into the toilet bowl. He was camped out in the bathroom now, huddled on the tile floor with his bowed head pressed against the cool edge of the bathtub. Daisy held a wet flannel to the back of his neck, but left the room quickly as he lurched toward the toilet once again.

 

After he had finished and was wiping his mouth on the flannel, Daisy reentered the bathroom and stood in the doorway. "Please let me call Mike and let us take you to the hospital. You've been at this for hours."

She had first made this plea two hours earlier and had been met with resistance. Now, however, tears running down his cheeks, Tim nodded weakly. Daisy quickly walked into the sitting room and dialed Mike's number. Mike sounded groggy when he answered the phone, but when Daisy told him that Tim was sick, he immediately agreed to come downstairs.

Mike arrived within seconds and rushed to check on Tim. "There, now, Timmy, it's alright. Mike's here, we'll get you fixed up in no time." Tears welled up in Mike's eyes as he saw how badly his best friend was suffering. He scooped Tim up off the bathroom floor and hugged him tightly, then quickly set him back down when Tim began to gag. With Daisy trailing behind, Mike all but carried Tim to his vehicle and bundled him inside, settling him into the passenger seat. Daisy climbed in the back.

The trip to the hospital was not pleasant. Mike drove dangerously fast, but had to pull over three times to let Tim throw up. Neither Daisy nor Mike had thought to bring along a bucket or plastic bag for just such an occasion. Tim moaned piteously and leaned his head against the passenger window as Mike drove maniacally. When they reached the hospital, Mike jumped out and rushed around to the passenger side to help Tim. He solicitously helped his friend into the building, leaving Daisy to follow in their wake.

Once inside the A&E, Mike sat with Tim in the waiting room, holding his hand and stroking his hair. He murmured words of reassurance while Daisy sat nearby and filled out the forms. Once the forms were completed, Daisy fetched coffee for Mike and water for Tim. She also managed to find a receptacle for Tim to use in case he couldn't make it to the bathroom when the waves of nausea hit.

When Tim's name was finally called, Mike and Daisy both accompanied him to the examination cubicle. The nurse took Tim's vitals without comment. The doctor arrived in due course, did a cursory examination, gave Tim an injection to stop the nausea, and wrote down a few instructions. He then turned to Daisy. "Now, here are some things you can do to help your boyfriend feel better when you get him home."

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend!" Daisy snorted. "I mean, he's my friend and we're living together, but we're not living together, you know? We're just flatmates, just friends. Not a couple. Not like you're thinking," Daisy prattled on.

The doctor had stopped listening and noticed how Mike was hovering over Tim and smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "Right, then," the doctor addressed Mike. "Here are some things to help your boyfriend feel better." Mike listened attentively, nodding every now and then to let the doctor know he understood. "Well, then, I've written these instructions down," the doctor concluded, handing them to Mike.

Mike thanked the doctor and helped Tim down from the examination table. "Let's get you home to Colin," Mike said. "He must be lonely there all by himself. Poor little fella." The doctor smiled warmly as Mike escorted Tim out the door with his arm wrapped around his friend's waist. Daisy followed meekly.

Later that night, Tim and Mike snuggled under a blanket on the couch and watched an old war film on television while Daisy made tea. She dozed in her chair after the boys fell asleep on the couch.

 

Three days later, Daisy was in absolute agony. Tim's virus struck her around 9:00 in the evening, and she was hunched over the toilet bowl for the third time when she begged Tim to call Mike to take her to the A&E. The injection that Tim had received there had made his nausea subside, and he had been able to sleep peacefully until the virus had run its course. Daisy didn't want to try and wait it out like Tim had tried to do; she wanted immediate relief.

Tim called Mike, who agreed to come to the rescue once again. Although he only lived upstairs, it was 15 minutes before Mike knocked at their door. Upon his arrival, Mike and Tim chatted by the door while Daisy dragged herself off the bathroom floor. "I'm telling you, mate, there's no way they'd be able to rebuild Steve Austin with just six million dollars today," Mike was saying. "It'd take close to one-hundred million, maybe more. I'm not real sure about the U.S. rate of inflation."

"Yes, but what about my Steve Austin action figure?" Tim asked. "How much would that be worth today? Sure, it's not mint in the box, or anything. I got it as a child and I played with it. But I took really good care of it!"

Daisy staggered after the pair of them as they made their way out the door. Tim once again took the passenger seat next to Mike. Daisy crawled in the back.

The drive to the hospital was a leisurely affair. Mike drove slowly while he and Tim talked animatedly in the front seat, bitching yet again about Star Wars, Episode I: The Phantom Menace. "I can't believe Lucas destroyed his masterpiece like that! Twenty-five years of hard labor, and he murders his baby! It was a boring, confusing mess executed with the dexterity of a 3-year-old wielding a paintbrush!"

"Let it go, Timmy," Mike soothed. "Once you admit to yourself and the world that it was rubbish, it's time to put it behind you and move on."

 

Personally, Daisy couldn't understand Tim's issues with Phantom Menace. Liam Neeson was well fit! And the fellow who played Darth Maul was that comedian whose name Daisy could never pronounce. She had seen him on Jonathan Ross's show several times and he was hilarious! Privately, Daisy thought he bore a strong resemblance to Tim's nemesis Duane, but she wisely kept this to herself. As Tim and Mike continued to commiserate with each other about the demise of the greatest movie franchise ever to grace the big screen, Daisy heaved into the bucket she'd had the foresight to bring with her.

Once at the hospital, Daisy huddled in her chair and tried to fill out the forms while Tim and Mike sat nearby and argued about the merits of Resident Evil II versus its predecessor. She had to rush to the loo twice during the wait. Twice she asked if one of them would bring her some water, but they didn't hear her over their argument. Once her name was finally called, Daisy was surprised when both Tim and Mike accompanied her to the examination cubicle.

The nurse came in and took her vitals, then asked Daisy the date of her last menstrual period. "Well, now, I'm not sure of the exact date, but it's been about 3 weeks. I'm due to start again soon." Daisy was a bit embarrassed to answer this question in front of Tim and Mike, who were suddenly hanging on to her every word.

"Not sure of the date? Is there any possibility you could be pregnant? That's the most likely cause of these symptoms for a woman your age." The nurse was all business as she spoke.

"No, I'm not preggars! 'Course not!!" Daisy blustered. She was really embarrassed now. Tim and Mike listened attentively, argument forgotten.

"And who are these gentlemen?" the nurse asked.

"I'm just a friend who drove them to the hospital," Mike volunteered, "but Tim, here, lives with Daisy. They've lived together for over two years now."

The nurse narrowed her eyes at Daisy. "Living together, eh? And you don't think there's any chance you might be pregnant?"

"No, no, we're not a couple!" Daisy protested. "We're just flatmates. We're not . . . intimate." Daisy spoke the last word in a stage whisper.

The nurse rolled her eyes. "The doctor will be in shortly," she snapped, and stalked out. Daisy threw up almost immediately after she left.

When the doctor arrived, he cut right to the chase. "I understand you're living with your boyfriend here. I must inform you that any time you are sexually active, there is always a chance of pregnancy, no matter what type of contraception you use. Pregnancy is the most likely cause of nausea in a woman of your age. Any drugs I administer to you might harm the fetus."

"But there is no fetus! I'm not pregnant! He's not my boyfriend!" Daisy's voice rose in pitch with each statement. "All I want is an injection so I'll stop throwing up! Tim had the same thing a couple of days ago - - I caught it from him!"

"And how did you manage to catch it from him?" the doctor asked.

"Because we're living together," Daisy said, "but we're not - "

"Are you telling me that you are not sexually active?" the doctor cut her off. Daisy was momentarily distracted as Tim and Mike snickered like schoolboys at the question.

"Not with him," Daisy declared, directing a scowl in the boys' direction.

"But you are sexually active?" the doctor persisted.

"Well, I've had sex, yes, but not for - -"

"I'm ordering blood work," the doctor interrupted her again. Tim and Mike looked crestfallen that they didn't get to hear Daisy's answer. "We'll see what's causing this and we'll do a pregnancy test while you're here." The doctor strode out before Daisy could utter another word. As soon as he left the room, Daisy threw up.

Waiting on the results of the blood work took ages. Daisy vomited three more times during the wait, but the intervals between each episode gradually became a little longer each time, and the vomiting progressively became less intense. By the time the doctor returned with the lab results, Daisy was almost feeling human again. Two hours had passed since she had first arrived at the hospital.

"Well, now, the lab results don't indicate any sort of bacterial infection. There's a nasty stomach virus that's been going around. Looks like that's the culprit. Oh, and you're not pregnant." The doctor never raised his eyes from the lab report as he delivered the news. "We'll just get you an injection for the nausea and you'll be on your way."

"Don't bother!" snapped Daisy. "I'm feeling better, I just want to go home."

"Looks like the virus has run its course, then," the doctor beamed. "Go home, suck on some ice chips and hard candy, get some sleep, and you'll be right as rain in the morning."

Daisy was about to tell the doctor what he could suck on when Mike spoke up. "Right, then, let's get you home to the littl'un," he grinned. "Poor little fella, home alone for all these hours. He must be missin' his mum."

The doctor looked at Daisy sharply. "Ms. Steiner, am I to understand that you have left a young child unattended at night for several hours?"

"No, no! He's not talking about a child! He's talking about Colin," Daisy hastened to explain. Before Daisy could explain that Colin was a dog, the doctor gave Daisy a nasty look, muttered something under his breath about unfit mothers, and strode out of the examination cubicle.

Later that night, or rather early that morning, Daisy sat on the couch snuggled under a blanket. Mike had gone upstairs to bed. Colin slept on Daisy's feet while Tim made tea. She was half-heartedly watching an old film on television when Tim carried a mug of tea to her. He asked her to budge up, and when she sat up a bit, he sat next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Daisy rested her head on Tim's shoulder. Colin snored gently while Tim idly stroked Daisy's hair.

"Sorry you've had such a rough time of it, Pickle," Tim said as they sipped their tea. "Those people at A&E were bonkers, thinking you were pregnant! Imagine, thinking we were a couple!"

"I know. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous?" Daisy laughed.

The two friends fell silent, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence. Daisy began to drowse, feeling the effects of a long, hard night, along with the combined warmth of the tea, blanket, dog, and friend. While the rest of the world was waking with the morning sun, the inhabitants of the little flat at 23 Meteor Street were drifting off into a hard-earned slumber.


	2. A Couple of TIts

Tim is in the zone. His feet move at the speed of light as the music pulses through his veins. This is when he feels most free. This is when he feels alive. When he dances, he is more god than man.

 

At his side, Mike is dancing his heart out. What he lacks in finesse, he more than makes up for in enthusiasm and raw, potent, sexual energy. When he throws his body in the air, it feels a bit wild and just a bit dangerous. Who knows where (or on whom) he'll land?

 

When Tim spins around, he sees Daisy jumping up and down and cheering for them. 

 

"Go, League of Extraordinarily Well-hung Gentlemen!" she cries as they pile up 'perfect' after 'perfect'. Sometimes she flubs the line - although Justice League of Extra-hung Gentleman wouldn't be a terrible name, really - but, for someone who'd been chugging lager all night (thanks to some weed-induced dry mouth), Tim thought she was doing rather well. Maybe she was right. Maybe the LEWG needed some PR.

 

It isn't the high score, but it puts them on the leader board yet again. LEWG is all up in Dance, Dance Revolution's shit and it feels so good.

 

Their adoring fans cheer as they leave the stage/DDR machine. Tim and Mike take in the adulation, enjoying every moment. They know it can't last, but they want to enjoy the ride while they're still young and beautiful.

 

"Look at that pair of tits," mutters some punk in a hoody. Tim refuses to let some asshole kid ruin his magical moment. LEWG are victorious.

 

"I'll have you know that those are two very good friends of mine!" Daisy screeches, "They are kind and thoughtful and, yes, caring men. Good men. The kind of men you should aspire to be... like... in the future... but also now, I suppose. You don't really need to wait..."

 

Tim's heart is warmed by Daisy's loyal defense, even if it is completely rubbish. When Daisy writes, her wit and intelligence calls through the page like a witty siren. When she actually sits down and focuses, she is a temptress with words. In person, she is a bit of a nutter who loses her faculty of language at the first drop of alcohol. 

 

"What?" the kid asks, looking sincerely confused.

 

"I heard what you said about my friends," Daisy continues. She's all fired up and looking for a fight. Her cheeks are pink and her hair keeps getting caught in her mouth and on her lip gloss as she shakes her head. Tim knows that if he could turn up the volume of Daisy's brain, he'd hear her internal monologue saying, "Pink cheeked and full of passion, Daisy tosses her hair in exasperation..."

 

"These 'tits', as you called them, are my mates. Yes, they are here in a pub, night after night, playing a ridiculous game in a desperate attempt to feel like they've accomplished something with their manchild lives. Yes, they can only dance when they are told exactly when to move and how, and they're about as elegant and graceful as a couple of hippos on roller skates, but at least they're having fun! They don't care if they' look stupid', or that they'll never have a chance with a woman who has seen them dance, but that's what makes them cool. They're cool because they are so unapologetically uncool," Daisy explains, flailing her arms about like Eva Peron as she speaks. "They were dorks in school and people like you would push them around for being different. Well, guess what? Now they're all grown up and having a blast while you're still skulking about, trying to figure out which kind of fun is still considered acceptable in the realm trendiness. You could learn something from this couple of tits."

 

Mike wipes a tear from his eye, "We love you, too, Daisy."

 

No more beer for Mike.

 

"He weren't talking about them blokes," whines hoody's friend, "Them were all right. He were just talking 'bout you."

 

It takes them all a bit to work it through. Tim is proud that he figures it out first.

 

"Hey!" he yells. "Have a little respect. Daisy isn't some piece of meat for you to ogle. Does she look like she wants you staring at her tits? Is there anything 

about that outfit that makes you think, 'Oi, she's up for it!' No. She's dressed like a primary school teacher getting ready for softball practice so little shits like you won't be eyeing her up or paying her any mind at all..."

 

"Thanks, Tim," Daisy barks, interrupting his train of thought, "That's enough."

 

"It isn't!" Mike yells, his eyes and voice full of passion. Mike enjoys the Dance, Dance, but it's the Revolution part that gets him worked up. He is high on endorphins and the sweet, sweet taste of victory. "Apologize to Daisy for looking at her...you know whats."

 

The punks mumble variations of, "Sorry for looking at your tits," while Daisy rolls her eyes.

 

"That really isn't necessary," she mumbles, crossing her arms across her chest, "I mean, it's not a big deal. It's just my body, I'm not ashamed to be feminine. I don't blame you for noticing my... endowments. I am wearing a rather flattering top..."

 

"And you was jumpin' up and down a lot," hoody adds.

 

"No!" Mike yells, "I don't care if she's naked on a trampoline, she deserves your respect, you man. She is a lady."

 

Tim forms, a mental image that he needs to exorcize immediately. Fortunately, the image of Mike, topless on a trampoline, is not hard to conjure as it is not an unfamiliar sight. Just the last weekend, they'd gotten pissed and scaled a fence to jump on a trampoline naked. Daisy had been there as well, but she and Colin were standing guard on the other side of the fence.

 

It's a funny thing about being friends with a girl, Tim has to be very careful to convince himself that there is nothing attractive or sexual about Daisy lest their relationship become uncomfortable. On the other hand, he can fondle Mike's perky tits and call him lover boy without it ever feeling "weird". 

 

Even when they're naked on a trampoline.

 

xxx

 

They stagger home, holding one another up. They each take turns being in the middle, rotating depending on who is currently having the most trouble walking. At the moment, Mike is being held up by Tim and Daisy as they work out the details of their next outing.

 

"I could get a tee-shirt made that says, 'Look at these tits!' with an arrow pointing sideways. Then I can stand next to you while you dance," Daisy suggests before dissolving into giggles and pig-like snorts, "Maybe we could get one for Twist as well..."

 

"I dunno," Tim replied, "Twist doesn't seem like the kind of girl who wants to draw attention to herself..."

 

Daisy tries to reach across Mike with her free arm to give Tim a punch, but ends up toppling them all to their knees in front of their building.

 

"I suggest we crawl," Mikes says as he raises himself from his belly to his hands and knees. "It's just safer."

 

Tim and Daisy exchange looks and laugh. 

 

Then they slowly crawl through the grass.

 

"You know this is every guy's fantasy?" Tim points out as he and Daisy pull themselves towards the front door. Brian's light is on. Hopefully, he'll let them in because Tim can't imagine any of them working a key at this point.

 

"What is?" Daisy asks, as she subtlety tries to crawl just a little faster than everyone else. Daisy is surprisingly competitive for a perpetual slacker.

 

Tim gestures as their triumvirate of drunken disasters, "Three tits."

 

Daisy snorts before pulling Mike's left leg out from under him and taking the lead. At one point, she 'accidentally' kicks Tim in the face, but he's glad when she gets to the door first, because she's the sucker who has to stand up and ring the bell.


	3. A Couple of Observations

Daisy heard Tim pick up his keys and whistle for Colin. She came out of the loo, wiping her still-damp hands on her jeans as Tim leashed the dog. The three of them headed out the door into the garden, then down to the local park. They strolled along leisurely, letting Colin sniff and mark every tree, bush, and bench they came upon. They walked in comfortable silence, enjoying the beautiful Wednesday morning, but still too caffeine-deprived to engage in civil conversation.

"Excuse me!" A bright, perky voice shattered the peaceful atmosphere. Daisy and Tim turned toward the voice and attempted polite smiles at the elderly woman who had addressed them.

"Er, hello," Daisy smiled. She hastily looked to see if Tim had missed picking up after Colin, then turned back to the woman. "Can we help you?"

"Oh, no!" the woman said brightly. "I've been taking my morning walk in this park for the last ten years. For the last two of them, I've seen you two walking your dog here almost every morning. Sometimes it's just him," she nodded at Tim, "and sometimes it's just you, but most of the time it's both of you here, together. And I wanted to say that you two are just the loveliest couple. I genuinely look forward to seeing you and your little dog there, it just makes my day. In this day and age, when it seems that no one ever manages to stay together for more than a couple of months, it does my old heart good to see a young couple like yourselves. You're to be congratulated! And I know it's none of my business, but I am looking forward to the day that I see you pushing a pram while you're walking your little doggie." The woman beamed at them.

"Oh. Oh!" Daisy's eyes widened with realization and her cheeks turned bright pink. "Well, y'see, we're not actually together. Not like you're thinking." Daisy faltered in her explanation as Tim laughed nervously.

"You mean you're not married," the woman nodded knowingly. "I understand, dear. It's a different age than when I was growing up. But it's the commitment of the heart that matters, not a ring or vows or a piece of paper. You two have what it takes to make a relationship work; I can tell. And who knows? Maybe one day you'll decide you want a ring and vows, too. Best of luck to you, dearies, whatever your plans may be." Before Daisy or Tim could answer, the woman smiled and continued on her way.

When they arrived back at the flat, Daisy put the kettle on while Tim made toast. Daisy set the mugs of freshly brewed tea on the table while Tim rummaged in the refrigerator for butter and jam. They sat at the table and planned their schedules for the following week.

"Colin has an appointment at the veterinary next Tuesday," Daisy said as she liberally spread jam over her toast. "He's due for his yearly vaccinations. Can you take him? I promised Twist I'd meet her for lunch and shopping that afternoon."

"Yeah, I can manage," Tim nodded. "I'll take the afternoon off work. Maybe Mike can come with me. Rent is due today, you know," he continued. "Can you run the cheque upstairs to Marsha after I leave for work today?"

"Sure," Daisy agreed. "And can you stop at the market on the way home from work today? We're low on milk and the biscuit tin is almost empty."

Tim nodded as he finished off his tea. "Oh! Tyres wanted to know if we wanted to go out with him tonight. Mike is out of town for the weekend for a training session, and Brian said he had other plans when I asked. I didn't pry for details. What about you? Are you free?"

"Bollocks! I wish Twist weren't visiting her mother this weekend! Yes, I'm free, though. I guess it will be just you and me and Tyres." Daisy privately wished that if their other friends were busy, it could just be herself and Tim. Not that she fancied Tim, or anything. It wouldn't be a date. It would just be . . . nice.

"Great," Tim was saying. "We're to meet him at 9:00 tonight. Gotta go, see you later." Tim pecked her on the cheek and was out the door before Daisy could reply.

Later that day, Daisy strolled into Tim's office at Darkstar Comics, arms laden with paper bags. She made herself at home while she unpacked sandwiches, crisps, and paper napkins, laying the food out on Tim's desk. She pulled up a chair and the two of them munched in companionable silence for a few minutes before Daisy asked, "What time can I expect you home tonight?"

"Between six and six thirty?" I get off at five, but I'm supposed to stop at the market, remember? I'll be home in plenty of time to eat and meet Tyres."

After finishing their lunch and cleaning up, Tim walked Daisy out to the reception area of Darkstar. "Bye, Pickle," he chirped brightly as he bussed her cheek and disappeared back into his own office.

"How long have you two been married?" The question came from Liz, a temp at the reception desk.

"Oh, we're just mates. We're not together," Daisy hastily explained.

"I don't have any mates who bring me lunch to the office. I've been here a week and you've brought him lunch three days in a row. And it's Wednesday," Liz observed.

"Oh, she's always bringing food 'round to her man," chimed in Millie, a regular at the reception desk. "She's here all the time, always bringing Tim his lunch, and they always close themselves up in his office. Satisfying their appetites, they are. I'll bet a little afternoon delight is on the menu, eh?"

Daisy blushed, but stood her ground. "It's not like that," she insisted. "We really are just good friends. I know it's strange because we live together and all - - " Her words were cut off by shrieks of laughter from the other two women.

"Don't be coy, love," Millie giggled. "Anyone with eyes can see you two are besotted with one another. See you tomorrow!" she called out as Daisy gave up and left the office.

That evening, Tim, true to his word, arrived home at 6:15 p.m. bearing plastic bags from the market and take-out cartons of Chinese food. Daisy helped him put the groceries away, then sat in a dreamlike trance as she savored her moo goo gai pan. Tim shoveled his General Tso's shrimp into his mouth as he chatted about work. "Millie said to tell you hello," he added as he wiped the tangy sauce from his upper lip.

"What? What do you mean by that?" Daisy asked sharply.

"I mean that Millie said to tell you hello," Tim shrugged, continuing to shovel food into his mouth.

"Did she say anything else to you?" Daisy's voice was almost an octave higher.

"Who?"

"Millie! What else did she say?" Daisy yanked the chopsticks from Tim's hand.

"She said to tell you hello! That's it! Now can I finish my dinner? What's got you so worked up, anyway?"

"Oh. Nothing. We just speak sometimes when I'm there bringing you lunch. After all, we're both women, we have a lot in common. Woman things, you know. About being . . . women." Daisy tried to look casual as she handed Tim his chopsticks and started clearing the table. Tim continued eating and let the matter drop, looking totally uninterested. Daisy slipped off to her room to get ready for their evening with Tyres.

That evening at the pub, Daisy found herself in a booth next to Tim, trying to decipher Tyres' thick accent. It always amazed her how Tim never seemed to have a problem understanding his friend. After a couple of pints, Daisy found that she could undertand Tyres with very little effort, although she herself was contributing very little to the conversation. Her friends were arguing over whether to stay at the pub or go to a club.

"I'm tellin' ya, Tim, we need ta go where the action is. Only little old ladies and their poofy little lapdogs hang out here."

"Yes, well it's a work night for me, isn't it? Getting smashed at a club is fine for the weekend, but I have to be at the office by eight in the morning. The pub's fine. I like it here." Tim rose from his seat to go to the loo.

Daisy wasn't drunk, but she was feeling a pleasant buzz as she sat contentedly in her seat and sipped at her lager. She was taken aback when Tyres turned his attention to her and suddenly changed the topic of conversation.

"So, when are you gonna finally put the moves on Tim?" he fired at her.

Daisy choked on her beer. She slammed the glass down and gasped for air, tears running down her face. "What!" she wheezed feebly.

"Ya know. Jump his bones."

"You're crazy! You know better than that! Tim and I are just friends." Daisy was still having a difficult time finding her voice. She cleared her throat loudly, even as she looked to see if anyone could overhear. Her eyes darted from side to side as she took another drink from her mug.

"I do know better than that! It's you an' Tim who don't know better. Ye're both so daft and clueless, it would be funny if it weren't so ridiculous! Wake up, woman! Ye've been datin' fer two fookin' years and ye're both too dense to notice. Ye've got yer little dog, ya eat every fookin' meal together, ya do the shoppin' an' the cookin' and the cleanin' together. Tha only thing ya ain't doin' is shaggin'. I say, if ye're gonna do all the rest, ya might as well be havin' the perks, too!"

Daisy said nothing. Her mouth opened and shut like a goldfish's as Tyres continued. "Let me tell ya sumtin 'bout Tim. He's comfortable with the way things are b'tween ya. He doesn't want ta mess that up, rock th' boat, so ta speak. Doesn't mean he doesn't fancy ya. But he's a lazy coward. Ye're gonna have ta be the one ta make the first move." When Daisy looked bewildered, Tyres spoke bluntly. "Ye'll have ta jump him first." Before Daisy could utter a sound, Tim returned from the loo, slid into the booth next to Daisy, and resumed his pub versus club argument with Tyres. Daisy remained mute.

Daisy and Tim walked back to the flat after Tyres had given up on changing Tim's mind about the club and left them to party on his own. Daisy still had not uttered a single word after her exchange with Tyres. She unlocked the door of the flat and sat down on the sofa, mulling over all that Tyres had said, along with all of the events of the day.

Tim broke her reverie. "Cuppa tea before we turn in?" Daisy nodded with a weak smile. Tim put the kettle on and returned with two mugs of steaming tea. He sat next to Daisy as they enjoyed the fresh brew.

Daisy finally cleared her throat. "Tyres said the silliest thing ever tonight when you were in the loo!" Her voice was too bright, too cheerful.

"Yeah? Was he going on about the pub being a place for old people to go and die?" Tim chuckled.

"He said that you and I have been dating for years and we're just too thick to notice. Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous?" Daisy laughed nervously and was relieved when Tim joined in the laughter. Her nervous laughter turned hysterical, while Tim's laughter was positively manic. The laughter gradually tapered off, leaving them in an uncomfortable silence. "Tim?" Daisy ventured hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to . . . go out? On a . . . date?"

"With you?"

"Yes. With me."

"Just you?"

"Yes. Just me . . . and you, obviously. You'd be there, as well."

Tim cleared his throat, tossed back the remainder of his tea, and spoke softly. "Yes. Yes, I believe I would."


	4. A Couple of Topps

"I didn't know you had a brother!" Daisy squeals, like it's the kind of news she's just been waiting her whole life to hear. Brian Topp has a brother! Thank God for that. Tim would hate to imagine that stellar bloodline dying out. Without the Topp family, how many dogs would be forced to live their entire lives without ever wearing a Jacobian ruff? Oh, the humanity.

 

"Is he an artist, as well?" Daisy asks as she perches herself on the couch. She seems to expect the tale of Brian's brother to be a real nail biter. Daisy always thinks people are going to be terribly interesting, but she's usually bored in the end. Tim has pointed it out but, as with every other pattern in her life (like sabotaging every career opportunity and only dating total knobs) Daisy refuses to acknowledge it.

 

"He's..." Brian's nose twitches when he thinks, like a nervous bunny, "an artist. He creates pieces that change the world."

 

"How?" Tim asks, because he can't not ask, "Please give me one example of how your brother has changed the world with his 'pieces'?"

 

Daisy is glaring at him, looking disturbingly like Tim's mother, but Tim can't help himself. Brian is a pompous ass, and his 'art' is shit, but he's a gentle soul. It bothers Tim that Brian always seems to think other people's rubbish excuse for art is better than Brian's rubbish excuse for art. 

 

"Julian once created a mural of erotic elephant art..."

 

Tim tries to catch Daisy's eye, but she is refusing to look at him. Most of the time, Daisy is a good mate, but she occasionally turns into a schoolmarm (or a prissy head girl).

 

"Erotic elephant art," Tim repeats, almost hoping that hearing it out loud will cause Brian to realize how fucking stupid it sounds.

 

"Yes," Brian says, his tone wistful, "It was beautiful. So big and gray and so very explicit. It was..."

 

"Gross?" Tim offers. Miss Steiner glares. If Tim doesn't behave, he'll be held after class to write lines.

 

"Brilliant."

 

"And did it raise awareness of the plight of that noble beast?" Daisy asks, her eyes shining with excitement. "Did the artwork of the streets move people to get off their lazy arses and take a stand? Or did a philanthropist see it and recognize how callous he'd been with his fortune and..."

 

"I can tell you now that none of that happened," Tim says, knowing he'll be in detention for sure. Daisy is wearing her 'disappointed' face. It is the look she gives him when he lets her down by stomping on her half-assed idealism, failing to do the shopping (even if it's her turn), or rolling a joint too loose so it burns unevenly.

 

"It caused... car accidents," Brian continues, looking lost in his memories. "So many car accidents. No fatalities, just twisted metal... screaming... fear... disgust."

 

"And how did that change the world, exactly?" Tim asks, because he still simply can't not ask. 

 

"They made murals of erotic elephant art illegal in four towns that year," Brian explains with more than a hint of pride. 

 

Even Daisy can't work up enthusiasm for that rubbish.

 

"How did that change the world?" Tim demands, "That just forced some towns to create ridiculous laws. That sounds more like a waste of time than any kind of accomplishment."

 

"He changed how people see elephants. He showed they could be vibrant, sexual animals, full of erotic potential. And a significant traffic hazard." 

 

xxx

 

The night before Brian's brother is set to arrive, the house is abuzz. Literally. Brian keeps blasting some terrifying techno music as he works on his new chainsaw painting technique. He simply dips a running chainsaw in paint and enjoys the chaos, but he is calling it art and Tim isn't arguing. The poor guy is nervous enough.

 

It isn't the noise, but the sudden quiet that wakes Tim in the middle of the night. He's trying to get back to sleep, and back to his unnerving but surprisingly hot dream about planting cucumbers with Marsha when someone comes pounding on the door.

 

Before he's fully awake, he yells, "It wasn't me!" He isn't sure why.

 

Daisy beats him to the door. Tim is still a little surprised by how haggard his flat mate manages to look in the middle of the night. Her hair is standing up in every direction and her face looks all smooshed. Every night, Daisy manages to look like she's been living in a cave with a minimum of twenty cats, for a minimum of twenty years. 

 

Daisy smacks him when he instinctively pulls back in fear. Tim is not terribly surprised to see Brian on the other side of the door, and is downright impressed when Brian has no response to Daisy's terrifying appearance. 

 

"Hello, Daisy. Hello, Tim," Brian greets them stiffly. "Did I wake you?"

 

Tim is confident Brian doesn't give a shit about their sleeping habits, given that he's been 'painting' with a chainsaw in the wee hours of the night. 

 

"What do you want?" Tim asks brusquely, earning another smack from Daisy.

 

She then turns to Brian and asks, "What can we do for you, Brian?"

 

Brian fidgets like a child until Daisy yells, "What do you want?"

 

"Julian is going to steal Twist. He's going to take her just like he takes everyone and everything that means anything to me. He's going to steal her and even our parents will say she made a good choice to leave me, because Julian is better at everything. I spent my whole childhood just trying to get one drawing on the refrigerator, but they told me it wasn't fair for them to remove a superior piece when there was limited space..."

 

Tim settles on the sofa and prepares for a long evening. Daisy won't allow him to go to sleep, so there is no point going to his room.

 

"Brian, you silly boy!" Daisy sighs dramatically, "Silly, silly boy. Twist isn't some flighty thing that's going to latch on to another man just because he's more successful..."

 

Tim smirks as he watches Daisy realize that Twist would definitely leave Brian for a more successful version. Twist is a sweet girl in her way, but her parents should have been put in the stocks by the time she was twelve for creating such a monster. She has yet to accept that she is no one's little princess anymore. She is just a pretty girl working in a dry cleaning shop. Tim doesn't understand Twist's relationship with Brian anymore than he understood her friendship with Daisy. Daisy and Brian may be the only people alive who think there was more to Twist than meets the eye. It makes sense that Twist gloms onto Daisy and Brian, Tim just isn't sure why the two of them never even try to run away.

 

Brian and Daisy exchange sorrowful looks before turning to Tim.

 

"Let him take her. It'll be perfect revenge for your messed up childhood," he suggests, braced for a physical assault from Daisy. Instead of flying fists, he just gets a frown. He would have preferred a hit.

 

"Just don't introduce them," Tim offers, oddly compelled to get back into Miss Steiner's good graces. "Or tell him you're dating Daisy and let him spend his trip trying to steal her away from you."

 

Brian looks hopeful for a moment, but then his shoulders sag.

 

"It will never work. He's seen my drawings of Twist. He'll take one look at Daisy..."

 

Tim does not point out that no one would ever recognize anyone from any of Brian's drawings. He doesn't need to, because Brian suddenly brightens up.

 

"Daisy!" Brian cries, grabbing her by the shoulders. "You are the answer! You can distract Julian. You can seduce him with your feminine wiles. Trap him in a web of your womanly... woman-ness."

 

Daisy scratches her crazy cat-lady hair as she thinks it over.

 

"I dunno, Brian. Me? Seducing your artist brother? What would we talk about? I mean, I'm an artist, obviously, being a writer. The English language is my medium, the human condition is my canvas..."

 

"So, Daisy will shag your dickhead brother," Tim announces as he stands up, "Problem solved! Good night."

 

He hears Daisy protest that she said nothing about sleeping with Brian's brother. He also hears her asking if Brian has a recent picture.

 

xxx

 

Daisy wants to look sexy and glamorous, so that she can outshine Twist. Naturally, because Daisy is completely mental, she asks Twist for help. Fortunately, Brian is actually taking a stand. He's certain he knows his brother's type and will not allow Twist to turn Daisy into Bette Davis in "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane?" He insists on a 'less is more' approach that is far from Twist's wheelhouse. Brian eventually takes over the makeup, himself. Daisy whines at first that he's going to poke her eyes out, but as he transforms her into a impressionist painting of herself, they all fall silent. Brian essentially redraws Daisy's face, eliminating small scars from where she picked at her acne as a teen and highlighting a nearly invisible scar she received from head-butting a football hooligan. 

 

It's clear that Brian isn't going so much for idealized beauty as for an interesting face. 

 

An inspiring face. 

 

Daisy is clearly disappointed by the results, "I just look like me."

 

Brian tries to make wardrobe suggestions but Daisy and Twist's eyes glaze over at his flowery language and references to obscure artists. Tim had endured enough 'art appreciation' to translate.

 

"He's an ass man."

 

Brian looks unhappy with the blunt terminology, but nods his agreement.

 

"That'll be no problem for you!" Twist squeals, patting Daisy on the rear. Daisy smiles and then frowns before following Twist into her bedroom to find some white slacks.

 

Once the door is closed, Tim asks Brian why he is worried Julian will pursue Twist if he likes natural girls who don't apply their make-up with a trowel. 

 

Brian doesn't seem to register the insult to Twist. He looks off in the distance, sadly, and says, "Because she likes me."

 

xxx

 

Julian is tall and handsome, with a deep and chocolaty voice.

 

He also has a Van Dyke, a jaunty scarf and a tribal tattoo. He looks like a spokesmodel for TopPrick. He oozes pretension and Tim hates him immediately while Daisy, Twist and Marsha are all immediately smitten. Even Mike giggles like a school girl when Julian comments on his, "uniquely expressive face" and says he wants to "mould" him. Tim isn't sure if Julian means to make a statue of Mike or literally mould Mike into another shape. Both ideas are creepy.

 

Tim had taken a stab at Twist's make-up, since she claimed she wanted to "tone down" her "natural magnetism". Tim knows his way around a make-up palette (and not just because of comic book conventions) and he thought he did a damn good job of making Twist look homely. He gave her dark circles under her eyes and crow's feet, thinned out her lips, gave her a grayish pallor and drew on just a hint of a double chin. Brian thought it was great. Twist punched Tim in the gut.

 

Apparently, Twist's idea of 'toning down' her looks simply involves wearing a pair of obviously fake glasses. Generally a fan of the hot girl dressed as smart girl style, Tim thinks Twist looks like a Julian. (Julian is Tim's new word for wanker). It takes her less than a minute to take off her glasses in Julian's presence. 

 

"So, Julian," Daisy says, giggling for literally no reason, "Brian says you paint murals."

 

Julian gives a warm chuckle, running a hand through his artfully mussed curls.

 

"I don't think of what I do as... painting," Julian explains. "The art is there, I simply... reveal it."

 

"So there were elephants screwing on a brick wall and you just... revealed them?" Tim asks. It's a perfectly reasonable question, but everyone glares at him. Everyone but Julian, who gives him a hearty laugh and hugs Tim for far too long. 

 

xxx

 

Brian's plan works like a dream. Julian takes to Daisy like an obnoxious prick to a soy latte. He draws Daisy's face -- he reveals the inner Daisy on every available surface. Daisy laughs at Julian's jokes until she snorts and shoots soda through her nose. Three days feel like three months as the Topp bothers outdo each other in speaking utter bollocks day and night. Tim does get some insight into the household where Julian was encouraged in his art while Brian was encouraged to focus on his maths and penmanship. Tim sees no difference between their levels of talent, but it is clear that Julian is better suited to the life of an artist. He wears his arrogance well, like a neckerchief. 

 

Sometimes, Brian visibly wilts in Julian's presence. Tim can see him shrink into himself as Julian discusses his various showings and travels. While Twist takes every opportunity to try and build herself up, Daisy makes a point of celebrating Brian. Tim knows damn well that Daisy doesn't understand what Brian calls art, but she enthusiastically repeats Brian's rhetoric. Whatever bollocks come out of Daisy's mouth, Julian eats it up like it's gospel, seeming to look at his brother with a new respect. Apparently, Brian is working on "re-positioning the axis of reality" and his big brother is impressed.

 

With all of Julian's panting attentions to Daisy, Tim is confused to find him leaving Marsha's apartment in the middle of the night and reeking of duty-free.

 

"Whoa! What? Why? I thought you and Daisy... Isn't she your muse?"

 

Julian looks vaguely embarrassed.

 

"Well, Marsha and I were talking about Brian and..."

 

"You wanted at least one chance to show him up this weekend?"

 

Julian frowns, but then shrugs.

 

"Old habits die hard," Julian says with a laugh. "I'm happy for Brian. Twist seems..."

 

Tim refuses to help Julian think of a kind word for Twist. He still wants to know why Julian is hooking up with Marsha when he's supposed to be infatuated with Daisy.

 

"Harmless," is the word Julian settles on.

 

"I thought you fancied Daisy." It comes out as a statement, but Tim is pretty sure the question is implied.

 

Julian closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he's breathing in a beautiful bouquet. "Daisy is marvelous. She's so... alive and raw. And she has an amazing arse."

 

Tim tries to delete the last comment from his mind. Part of being friends with a girl is failing to notice her arse, even if she spends days wearing nothing but white bottoms.

 

"So, why Marsha?"

 

Julian gives Tim a serene smile, "My days of poaching are over, Tim. I'm a reformed man. I met with a yogi whilst..."

 

"I'm talking about Daisy, not Twist," Tim reminds him.

 

"But Daisy's no more available than Twist, now is she?"

 

Julian says it with a cryptic smile, and then gives Tim another creepy hug. Tim's pretty sure he hears Julian whisper, "Feel the love."

 

xxx

 

Daisy is staring at a sketch of herself, one of many left in Julian's wake.

 

"Is my face really that puffy?" Daisy asks for the thirtieth time.

 

"Yes."

 

"He could have been a little more flattering."

 

"Julian doesn't draw you, he reveals you on scraps of paper," Tim reminds her, not for the first time, but it still makes him giggle.

 

"It's a bit weird he never made a move," Daisy observes as she rips open a bag of crisps and shoves a handful in her mouth. 

 

"No it isn't. Just because a guy is interested in a woman doesn't mean he has to make a move. People can be friends!" Tim can hear his voice getting higher and squeakier, but he can't stop. "Just because a girl is beautiful and charming and exciting doesn't mean a guy has to make a move on her."

 

"Did he call me beautiful, charming and exciting?" Daisy asked around a mouthful of crisps.

 

"I don't know," Tim snapped. "What am I? His biographer?"


	5. A Couple of Mishaps

Daisy sat at her typewriter and pretended to write. In fact, she was daydreaming about starring in her own soap opera, winning a Nobel Prize, joining the Peace Corps, taking horseback riding lessons, and finding the man of her dreams. Only the fantasy of learining how to ride a horse seemed remotely attainable, and Daisy even had doubts about that one since she was scared of horses. She admired them, she thought they were beautiful, but they were just so . . . big.

Her dream of finding Mr. Right was enjoyable, but rather troubling. Growing up, she'd always pictured someone tall, dark, and handsome, like Clark Gable, who would quite literally sweep her off her feet. Recently, her fantasy man had become less dark and more blond, occasionally bleach-blond. Her ideal man had become less of a knight-in-shining-armor and more of a . . . Jedi-Knight-Wannabe. Daisy was relieved when she heard a knock at the door and her uncomfortable thoughts were interrupted.

"'Ello, Poppet," Marsha crooned as she opened the door and stuck her head inside the flat. "Mind if I come in for a bit? I'm not disturbin' you, am I?"

"No!" Daisy was quick to assure Marsha. "I'm at a stopping point. Time for a break, I've been working for hours!" Daisy hastily whipped the blank pages out of her typewriter and stuffed them in a folder. "Come in, I'll make tea."

As Marsha settled herself at the kitchen table, there was another knock at the door. "Knock, knock!" Twist let herself in and squealed, "Ooh, I'm just in time for tea!" Marsha looked disappointed by the intrusion, but said nothing as Twist joined her at the table. Daisy put out a plate of biscuits as she waited for the kettle to boil.

Twist reached for a biscuit as she began chattering about work, about clothes, about Brian, about her latest shopping adventure. Marsha rolled her eyes and lit a cigarette. Daisy let the chatter wash over her as she set out three mugs and reached for the tea bags. "Daisy! Are you listening at all?" Twist demanded. "You haven't said anything about my dilemma of whether or not I should put highlights in my hair. My natural color is lovely, of course, but highlights are all the rage right now."

"Hm?" Daisy shook herself out of her reverie. She poured boiling water in the mugs over the tea bags and sat down at the table while the tea was steeping.

"What's wrong, dear? You seem a bit distracted," Marsha cut in, patting Daisy's hand soothingly. "What's on yer mind, Poppet?"

"To tell the truth, I've been thinking about Tim," Daisy confessed.

"Is that all!" scoffed Twist. "Hightlights are one thing, but that bleach job of his is just ridiculous! The Billy Idol look went out with the 80's."

"What about 'im, dear?" prompted Marsh, blowing smoke in Twist's face.

"Well, I don't know. I was thinking I'd like to do something . . . special for him. I mean, it's not his birthday, or anything, but I thought - -"

"You're goin' after yer man at last!" crowed Marsha. "I never really did buy the idea that you two weren't a couple. You just seem so perfect together." Marsha pulled the cigarette out of her mouth and beamed. "Now listen to me, Poppet," she continued as she pointed the cigarette in Daisy's direction. "The way to catch the attention of a man like that is through 'is stomach. You cook 'im up something special for 'is supper tonight. That'll make 'im sit up and take notice."

"Bollocks!" interrupted Twist. If she couldn't dominate the conversation talking about herself, she was willing to dominate the conversation talking about her best friend's lack of a love life. "The way to catch any man's attention is to fix yourself up. Make yourself look desirable, sexy. Well, " she amended, looking down her nose at Daisy, "at least not like you're straight off the football field. How much time before Tim gets home from work?"

"About four hours, give or take a few minutes."

"Not much time. Maybe you should cook for him after all. Marsha," Twist turned her attention to the landlady, "why don't you and Daisy plan a menu and go grocery shopping? I'll run back to mine and grab a few things. I'll meet you both back here in an hour and we'll pray for a miracle!" Twist flitted out of the flat, ticking a mental list off on her fingers. Jealous though she might be for not being the center of attention, Twist genuinely wanted to make Daisy look special for Tim, and she was thrilled to show off her area of expertise.

Daisy and Marsha decided on a simple stir-fry for supper, as Daisy would be pressed for time. They made a quick run to the market, then came back to Daisy's flat where they chopped vegetables, prepared the sauce, and placed the meat in the refrigerator to marinate. "Now all you need to do is warm the pan, put everything in, and you'll have supper in a jiffy!" Marsha beamed. "You'll see. 'E'll be eatin' out of your hand before the night's over." Daisy thought it was more likely that Tim would be eating directly out of the pan, rather than out of her hand, but she kept this to herself. Marsha was so happy with her matchmaking, and Daisy didn't want to spoil it for her.

"Knock, knock!" Twist's overly-cheerful voice caused the other two women to turn their attention toward the door. It appeared that Twist was moving in, or at least coming to stay for a very long visit. She lugged boxes and bags into the flat, stacking them haphazardly around the settee. "Who's ready for a makeover?"

"Daisy, sit still!" scolded Twist twenty minutes later as she applied the fourth shade of eyeshadow to Daisy's eyelids before shaking her head and wiping it off. "Now where did I put that light green shade?" she mused to herself as she dug through a huge bag of cosmetics.

"I thought that blue was a lovely color on 'er," Marsha offered from her perch on the edge of the bathtub.

Daisy was sat on the closed lid of the toilet, looking quite put out. Her face was a veritable palette of colors, with different shades of foundation, rouge, mascara, and the aforementioned eyeshadow. Twist was determined to find just the right colors for Daisy, but in her experimentation, Daisy more closely resembled a circus clown than a sex goddess.

"Ow!" Daisy cried out as Twist poked her in the eye with an eyeliner pencil.

"Sorry!" Twist tossed over her shoulder unrepentantly. "Let's see if that curling iron is hot." Forgetting about Daisy's face, Twist began curling Daisy's hair. Ten minutes and several scalp burns later, Twist stepped back to examine her work. "Well - - it's curly," she murmured noncommitally.

"Kind of got a Shirley Temple look," Marsha offered.

Daisy peeked around Twist to glance at herself the bathroom mirror. Medusa-like locks of hair snaked from every direction on her head. "Shit! What've you done?!" she cried.

"It just needs combing out. Let's go pick out your clothes." Twist breezed out of the bathroom and went into Daisy's bedroom.

She dug through Daisy's closet, stringing clothes out over every available surface, including the floor. She made Daisy try on several short and/or strapless dresses ("Where did I get so many slutty clothes?" Daisy wondered to herself), as well as every skirt-and-top combination. Twist lamented that Daisy didn't own any skin-tight trousers, then proceeded to dig into one of the large bags she had brought, stringing out an array of scarves, belts, and cheap costume jewelry. Finally, Twist selected a short, tight black skirt, a black tube top, some high-heeled strappy sandals, and an assortment of accessories. "There! That ought to get his blood racing. Oh my, look at the time! Tim'll be home in 30 minutes! You need to get dressed, Daisy. I'll lay out the makeup colors for you in the bathroom and pack the rest away. Don't forget to comb out your hair."

"I'll start warmin' the fryin' pan for you, Poppet," Marsha offered, going into the kitchen. She poured oil into the pan, set the burner on low, and placed the pan on the burner.

Twist bustled out of the bathroom. "Right, then, Daisy, we'll leave it to you!"

Daisy appeared in her bedroom door, clad only in her underwear, and waved to Twist and Marsha as they left the flat. She returned to her bedroom and started getting dressed. She changed into a lacy, black strapless bra and black knickers, then squeezed into the tube top. It was a tight fit and Daisy began to wonder if the top didn't actually belong to Twist. The skirt was next. Daisy pulled it on, then started to zip it up. The zip was in the back and difficult to reach. It got stuck midway. No matter what she did, Daisy could not get the zip to move either up or down. It was far enough up that she couldn't remove the skirt, no matter how much she tugged and contorted her body. The best she could do was tug the skirt around backwards so that the zip was now in front, rather than in the back. She began tugging on it in earnest, forgetting about her hair, makeup, or dinner.

As Daisy was struggling with her wardrobe, Tim arrived home. He opened the door of the flat and was greeted by the smell of smoke coming from the kitchen. He wandered into the kitchen to investigate, only to find a small fire burning on the stove. Trying not to panic, he filled a pitcher with water and poured it on the fire. He was horrified when the flames grew even higher. "Aaaarrgghhh!!" he screamed.

The noise brought Daisy out of the bedroom. "What's going on?"

Tim turned from the stove and was greeted by a barefooted creature in a bizarre state of undress. Hair stuck out wildly from all sides of its head, and its face was a gruesome mix of bright, hideous colors. "Aaaarrggghhh!" he screamed again.

"Gimme that!" Daisy snatched the pitcher from Tim, filled it up with water, and tossed it on the fire.

"Aaaarrggghhh!" Daisy and Tim both screamed as the flames roared high above their heads.

The door burst open suddenly. Daisy and Tim's heads swiveled simultaneously toward the door and were confronted by a huge, masked figure dressed head-to-toe in a yellow hazmat suit and wielding a strange-looking weapon. Tim and Daisy screamed again as the figure pointed its weapon - - at the stove. The huge fire extinguisher did the trick, putting out the flames in an instant. Mouths open in awe, Tim and Daisy stared as the mysterious figure removed its helmet. "Mike!" they gasped in relief.

Mike saluted them and grinned. "Tim. Daisy."

"Why couldn't we put out the fire? We both poured water on it, but it only got worse!" Tim babbled.

"Grease fire, Timmy. Water makes it worse. You have to use salt or smother the flames. My work here is done." Mike saluted once again and left, closing the door behind him.

"What was that supposed to be?" Tim gestured toward the stove.

"Um, dinner?" Daisy offered.

"And what is this?" Tim gestured toward Daisy.

"Ah, Twist's idea . . . " Daisy left the explanation at that; it seemed to be sufficient for Tim, who merely nodded his head mutely.

"Pizza?" they both said simultaneously, reaching for the phone.

After a half-assed attempt at cleaning up the kitchen, Tim and Daisy sat side-by-side on the sofa, eating their pizza and sharing a bottle of wine. They didn't bother with glasses, but both swigged liberally from the bottle. Daisy had finally managed to get out of her tight clothes and was cozy in warm-ups and socks. Her hair and face were still a mess, and both she and Tim were smudged with soot and stank of smoke. Oddly enough, the soot actually improved Daisy's appearance, toning down the frightful colors that streaked her face.

They both reached for the wine bottle at the same time, then both snatched their hands back. They laughed, and Tim picked up the bottle and handed it to Daisy. "Here, Pickle."

"Thank you." Daisy's hand brushed Tim's as she took the bottle. Their eyes locked. Tim leaned forward. Daisy met him halfway. Their noses bumped. They knocked heads. They both kept leaning the same way. Still, as their lips finally touched for the first time, Daisy couldn't help thinking that it was the most perfect first kiss ever.


	6. A Couple

After something like two years of convincing himself Daisy was not an attractive woman, but rather a very slender man wearing a lady suit, Daisy says, "Let's chuck all your hard work in the bin and start making babies."

 

Those weren't her exact words, she had suggested they go on a date, but it meant the same thing. No matter how the evening went, they would be changed forever.

 

Tim knows exactly what Daisy thinks of every item in his wardrobe, so he definitely has to go shopping for new clothes. He doesn't want to look like he's trying too hard, but he also doesn't want to hear Daisy say, "Good, Tim. You don't want to look like you're trying too hard."

 

He considers asking Twist for advice, but after imagining himself in a man corset, neckerchief and stacked heels, he decides to ask Marsha instead. 

 

He regrets his decision a bit when Marsha bursts into tears.

 

"I'm sorry, Tim. I know I'm just your weird old landlady, but I think of you as the son I never had and Daisy is like the daughter I always wanted."

 

"Well, you do have Amber..."

 

"I said the daughter I wanted, not the demon I was blessed with," Marsha explains. "Don't get me wrong, Tim, Amber is the pride and joy of my life, but I could just wrap my hands around her little neck and squeeze..."

 

"So a tie or no...?"

 

"Trust me, Daisy doesn't care what you wear," Marsha promises, looking misty-eyed again. "What the two of you have is special. I've never known a happier couple. Even before you were a couple."

 

"Thanks, Marsha. You're right. Why am I acting like this is a first date? Daisy and I have history. We don't need to worry about, 'Oh, am I dressed right? Do I need a tie?' What matters is we're together."

 

Tim stands up feeling calm and confident.

 

"Oh, Tim..." Marsha calls as he heads for the door. "Maybe a tie. And a little hair cut. And maybe you could give your natural hair color another try? It can't be as bad as all that."

 

"Is that all?" Tim asks sarcastically.

 

"You're a very handsome young man," Marsha assures him with a pat on the arm. "If I were fifteen years younger, I'd fancy you myself."

"Thanks, Marsha. If I were fifteen years older..." Tim stops when he realizes "My sex dreams about you wouldn't be so disturbing," is not a socially appropriate statement.

 

"Go on!" Marsha waves Tim away with a blush. "Have a wonderful time with Daisy."

 

"I think I will."

 

"And Tim?" Marsha calls, reaching into her purse.

 

"Yes?" Tim asks, suddenly terrified she will offer him a johnny.

 

"Here's a nice little moisturizer for your face," she explains as she holds out a jar. "It makes me look half-decent, it should be able to handle your problem areas."

 

xxx

 

Tim is a bit dodgy on the rules of dating a flat mate. Normally, it's three dates until sex, but it seems like the first two years of living together should count as at least one date. After all, he and Daisy already had something of a date. It was literally a disaster and Tim didn't know it was a date until he found Daisy looking like Medusa and surrounded by smoke... but they did kiss. By Tim's calculations, it should be perfectly acceptable to make a move. 

 

"You can't rush things with Daisy," Mike warns him as Tim tries to remember how to tie a tie. Mike knows how to make several knots, and while they might be excellent for supporting a mountain climber or keeping a boat docked, they don't look right on a tie.

 

"I'm not rushing things! We've been living together for ages."

 

"As friends! There's a big difference between being a friend and being in a romantic relationship," Mike insists. "The blue of this shirt really brings out your eyes, Tim. A man could get lost in those pools of blue."

 

"Thanks, babe. Daisy and I are modern people. We aren't hung up on tradition or romance. Daisy certainly isn't. We have a whole routine in place for me to help her figure out the names of the blokes that come out of her bedroom after a tequila binge," Tim explains with a fond smile. 

 

"But this isn't some crazy fling. This is forever," Mike reminds him. "Daisy is going to be the person you wake up to for the rest of your life! The last woman you'll ever sleep with. Ever. You'll be holding her hair when she has morning sickness, and working day and night to support the kids and you'll need to buy a house in a nice neighborhood..."

 

Tim covers his ears and sings, "Na, na, na, na, Batman!"

 

Mike doesn't so much take the hint as get caught up in doing the Batusi, but at least he's not going on about Tim's future. Tim wants children. Theoretically. In the distant future. After he's hit that point he assumes people suddenly reach where they are tired of being free and independent. And well-rested.

 

xxx

 

Daisy looks amazing. It's clear that no one helped her get ready, because she actually looks like Daisy, just a bit cleaned up. Her hair is loose and bouncy looking and she has done the trick that women do where you know they're wearing make-up but you can't quite tell where or how much. Daisy simply looks a little brighter than usual. 

 

"Daisy, you look..." Tim instinctively imagines Daisy's form-fitting frock on Mike before remembering he can actually enjoy looking at Daisy now. For all the terrifying possibilities of being a romantic couple, finally being able to look at Daisy as a girl is a big bonus.

 

"Well?" Daisy prompts expectantly.

 

"Your tits look amazing," Tim says sincerely, putting his hands up to block Daisy's punches before she's even raised her arms. He takes his pummeling before telling her she looks beautiful.

 

"You look good, too. I can tell Mike dressed you," Daisy points out as she looks Tim up and down. "He really has a thing for your eyes."

 

"He always has," Tim agrees, fondly remembering the many times Mike has commented on his piercing orbs of blue.

 

"So do I," Daisy says softly.

 

Tim gives her a quick, but (hopefully) romantic kiss. Daisy looks flustered.

 

"This is so strange!" she squeals. "You and me, on a date. Being romantic. What if this is all a terrible mistake?"

 

Tim feels calm in the face of her panic, "We'll see where things go. If it doesn't work out, then we'll just go back to being friends."

 

"Friends who've seen each other naked," Daisy points out. 

 

"That's never caused a problem for me and Mike."

 

Daisy thinks it over.

 

"Good point. Now, don't start getting ideas about tonight," Daisy warns him. "I'm wearing a lot of shapewear to make this dress look good. No one is getting in my knickers without wire cutters and good three hours of hard labor."

 

xxx

 

They don't sleep together after their first date, or their second date. (Daisy adamantly vetoes counting living together or pizza and a kiss as dates.) Their first time together does not follow a date at all. They were supposed to go out, but Daisy's allergies were acting up and she refused to go out a date with bloodshot eyes and her nose giving Rudolph's competition in the red and glowing department. They order out for Chinese and curl up on the couch for an X-files marathon. During the pilot, Daisy accuses Tim of "checking out" Scully in her bra and knickers.

 

"I was not checking out..." Tim begins before realizing it's a pointless approach, "Of course, I was checking her out! She's half naked. You were checking her out as well." 

 

Daisy laughs and agrees that Gillian Anderson is sexy as hell. Then she kisses Tim.

 

"What was that for?"

 

Daisy blushes and pulls a face, "Just for being you."

 

"C'mere, Pickle," he says, holding out his arm. Daisy snuggles into his side. 

 

"Oh, fuck it," Daisy sighs. "I'm not waiting for another date."

 

Before Tim can ask what she means, she has him flat on his back on the couch and he's forgotten all about Gillian Anderson. That's when he knows for sure that he's in love.

 

xxx

 

"Why on earth did we wait so long to do this?" Daisy asks as she tries fruitlessly to blow smoke rings.

 

"I was still getting over Sarah when we met," Tim reminds her, struck by how little he feels when he thinks about Sarah. He'd thought that pain would never recede. 

 

"And I was dating Roger," adds Daisy.

 

"His name was Richard."

 

Daisy looks ready to argue, but just laughs and admits, "He wasn't very memorable. Not like you, Tom."

 

Tim was trying to think of a snappy comeback when Colin came barking at the door. When Tim lets Colin in the room, he immediately jumps on the bed, sits in front of Daisy, and growls at Tim. He and Daisy have truly been a couple for years, they just refused to acknowledge it. They even have a furry child together.

 

And the little bastard already has an Oedipal complex.


	7. A Couple of Years Later

Daisy was violenty ill for the fifth time that evening. Tim was crouched over her, offering her water to sip as she huddled on the bathroom floor. "Come on, Pickle. Let's call Mike and get you to hospital. You can't spend the night in this state."

Daisy nodded weakly and leaned against the tub as Tim made the call to Mike upstairs. She allowed Tim to help her up and into her coat, as it was freezing cold outside. Mike arrived a few minutes later. "Alright, Daisy," he asked solicitously. "Come on now, me and Timmy'll take care of you. We'll soon have you set to rights."

Tim grabbed a plastic bag and both men helped her outside to Mike's waiting vehicle. Tim got Daisy strapped into the front seat and climbed in the back. "C'mon, Mike, make it snappy. She's been in a bad way all evening."

Exactly ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of the A&E. Tim helped Daisy inside while Mike went to find a parking spot. By the time Mike arrived inside, Tim was already filling out the forms for Daisy. Mike sat next to Daisy and held her hand, chatting softly to her about how she was going to be fine. When Tim finished filling out the forms, he held Daisy's other hand while they waited. None of them spoke during the wait, except for when Tim or Mike would occasionally ask Daisy if they could get her something. Twice Daisy had to rush to the loo; both times, Tim was waithing outside with a paper cup of water.

When Daisy's name was finally called, both men accompanied her to the examination cubicle. The nurse bustled in to take Daisy's temperature and blood pressure. "How long have you been vomiting?" she asked.

"Since 4:00 this afternoon. At first I thought it was just something I ate. But now I think it's that stomach virus that's been going round."

"She's puked five times at home and twice since we got here," Tim volunteered. The nurse gave him a withering look, and he closed his mouth sheepishly. He rubbed Daisy's back and looked contrite.

"Now, love, when was your last menstrual period?" the nurse continued.

"Well, ah, I'm not really sure," Daisy began.

"You're not on the pill?" the nurse inquired.

"No, no, we use other methods - -" Daisy suddenly remembered the events at this same hospital two years before, and sighed. "Here," she said resignedly, holding out her arm. "Go ahead and take my blood. You're going to do it anyway. Do the pregnancy test, then give my my bloody Phenergan jab!"

The nurse collected the blood sample and left the room.

The wait wasn't too bad. Mike made them all giggle by making lewd stick figures out of tongue depressors and cotton swabs. As she sat there smiling at Mike's silly antics, it crossed Daisy's mind that she wasn't feeling very bad at all.

"How do you feel, Pickle?" asked Tim. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Actually, I am," admitted Daisy. "This is probably just another wasted trip, just like before."

At that moment, the doctor whipped back the privacy curtain to the cubicle and stepped in, clipboard in hand. "Well, well, Ms. Steiner, it seems you're not feeling well?"

"No, I've been vomiting pretty much all afternoon and all evening. I just need a Phenergan jab and I'll be as good as new," Daisy explained.

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," the doctor said, shaking his head gravely.

"Why not, Doctor?" Tim asked anxiously. "What's wrong?" Daisy didn't speak, but her eyes were wide with fear. Mike gripped both of their hands in a supportive gesture.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing! On the contrary, congratulations are in order! Are you the lucky dad?" the doctor asked Tim. His eyes moved back and forth between Tim and Mike, unsure of which one he should be addressing.

Tim's mouth opened and shut a few times without any sound coming out. Daisy's mouth hung open in shock. Mike found his voice first. "I'm gonna be an uncle," he whispered in awe. "Or an auntie, if it's a girl."

Daisy's eyes met Tim's and they both exploded with laughter. Mike wiped his eyes and grinned broadly. The three of them embraced and began jumping up and down. "Colin's gonna be a big brother!" Mike exclaimed. Still unsure as to which man was the father, the doctor gave Daisy some parting advice on handling morning sicknes and advised her to contact her regular physician as soon as possible.

Tim put the kettle on as soon as they arrived home. After brewing the tea, he joined Daisy on the sofa. The two cuddled under a blanket as they sipped their tea and let the news sink in. Colin lay stretched across both of their laps.

"We're going to be parents!" Daisy squealed. "Can you believe it? It is a good thing, isn't it, Tim?" she asked as an afterthought.

"Of course it's a good thing," Tim was quick to reassure. "I'm gonna be a dad! And you're gonna be the best mum ever. With your writing ability and my artistic talent, little Luke is going to be the most creative kid in England!"

"Luke?" Daisy laughed. "You've already picked out a name?"

"Well, yeah," Tim admitted. "I've always wanted to name my kid Luke. Is that okay?"

"Well, sure, I suppose," Daisy answered. "But, you know, it might be a girl."

Tim nodded dreamily. "Yeah. I'm kind of hoping for a girl, actually."

"Do you have any girl names picked out?" Daisy asked.

Tim looked confused. "What do you mean?"

"I mean - -" Daisy stopped for a minute, then said as delicately as possible, "I mean, Luke isn't traditionally used for girls, is it? We might want to use something a bit more, um feminine. For a girl." Daisy was already getting prepared for having a little Luke or Leia running around the flat. She didn't mind either name, really.

Tim's eyes widened. "Oh! I see what you mean. Yes, I suppose a little girl named Luke might get teased by her mates at school."

Daisy nodded her head emphatically up and down. "Exactly!"

"Buffy is much better suited for a girl," Tim agreed. "Glad that's all settled."

Daisy said no more, but snuggled up to Tim under the blanket and started getting used to the idea of a daughter named Luke. Maybe they would start a new trend in baby names. Maybe the baby would be a boy.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Couplehood - Artwork](https://archiveofourown.org/works/759844) by [katiemariie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/katiemariie/pseuds/katiemariie)




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